


If You Want a Partner, Take My Hand

by Tethysian



Series: Love the One You're With [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alpha Armitage Hux, Alpha Leia Organa, Alpha Poe Dameron, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, But which kind???, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Consensual Violence, Crying, Established Relationship, Hux meets Leia, Insecurity, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mother-Son Relationship, Omega Kylo Ren, Past Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Pearl Necklace, Possessive Behavior, S&M, Slapping, one harmless thing which I'm not tagging because spoilers, post-TFA, some actual story and not just sex this time!, still quite a lot of sex, two psychos trying to socialize
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 21:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12944859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tethysian/pseuds/Tethysian
Summary: In the wake of the destruction of the Hosnian system Hux attends a peace conference held by what remains of the Galactic Senate. He drags his reluctant mate along with him for a week-long holiday filled with former lovers, pushy politicians, and even pushier estranged mothers. On top of all of that Hux is acting strange and Kylo soon discovers something else far more pressing for him to worry about.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Or if you want to strike me down in anger, here I stand_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> This is actually part four of the series and at this point Hux and Kylo are already mated. There will be a part three that deals with the circumstances surrounding how and why that happens, but the order in which they're read shouldn't matter. Both stories are nearly done thanks to NaNo, but I wanted to get this one out to bookend the series before TLJ drops in case that would affect my ability to finish it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it and as always, constructive criticism, feedback, and questions are always welcome! <3
> 
> Title from 'I'm Your Man' by Leonard Cohen

 

It turns out that there's nothing quite like the complete annihilation of an entire star system to bring people together. As devastated as Hux is after the loss of Starkiller base, the massive weapon did serve its purpose.

 

There's a promise of war on the horizon again. Hux seems very pleased by the prospect even though he doesn’t possess the convenience of annihilating their enemies from the comfort of his own base anymore.

 

The remaining New Republic worlds have banded together like frightened little children, disorganized and confused with so many of their leaders and elected representatives obliterated along with the bulk of their fleet. Knowing Leia Organa and her like, it won't be long before the Resistance has whipped the rest of the soft-spined New Republic into fighting order, but while the Resistance is gearing up for war, what remains of the Galactic Senate is predictably dragging its feet. ~~~~

There's a hard limit to how much Kylo is willing to listen to when it comes to politics and the petty squabbles of democracy. Very little of it would be of interest to him if he wasn't fucking Hux, which means he has to live with blow-by-blow reports of everything the Galactic Senate is and isn't doing even though he should technically be exempt from listening to Hux's otherwise obligatory speeches.

 

He can only pull a pillow over his head and say "that's nice, dear," so many times before something sticks despite his best efforts to the contrary.

 

So that's why he knows that the Senate has, in true New Republic fashion, decided to _talk_ about the matter first and thus called for a galaxy-wide peace conference in a last ditch pipe-dream effort to secure peace and avoid another war --  and that they have invited Hux to attend as the representative for the First Order.

 

When Hux gleefully informs him of this Kylo's first guess is that Hux is happy to have the remaining leaders of the New Republic gathered in a single location so he can more easily obliterate them from space, but Kylo is in for a number of surprises: first that Hux wants to attend, and secondly that the Supreme Leader agrees to it.

 

"I'll be taking Ren with me," Hux says.

 

Kylo is careful not to turn his head to look at him and keeps staring ahead somewhere in the vicinity of Snoke's flickering right shoulder. They're both walking on thin ice around Snoke since the Starkiller incident, so he doesn't know why Hux thinks now is a good time to start antagonizing him, other than that he has possibly lost his mind from grief over the loss of his super weapon.

 

 The statement hangs uneasily in the charged air for half a second before Hux amends, "He's only a couple of days out from a heat. We'll be able to take a few days off before the summit and deal with it. Provided you don't have any other orders that require his immediate attention."

 

"Very well," Snoke allows after an extended pause. Kylo very slowly lets go of the breath he was holding. "I have no current use for him."

 

 Snoke dismisses them but what ought to be a relief settles deep and wounding in Kylo's chest. Dismissal.

 

"You could have asked me," he says to Hux when they're out in the hall and away from under Snoke's watchful eye.

 

Hux clasps his hands behind his back and stares ahead as they walk, clearly avoiding eye contact. "It's nearly on top of your heat, there wasn't much to consider." Kylo resists the urge to barge into Hux's mind to see what he's hiding. He finds that he doesn't really need to most of the time, anymore.

 

"Have you considered _not_ going?"

 

"No." As far as Hux is concerned he has practically been invited on a victory tour. Whoever sent the invitation had the good sense to appeal to his vanity, and Kylo almost can't fault him for it.

 

They pass a technician who fails to salute because he's too busy staring at Kylo. They're still not used to seeing his face, and the way they're acting isn't making it any easier for Kylo to acclimatize. The technician trips over nothing, sending him sprawling over the floor along with the contents of his toolkit, and Hux finally spares Kylo a glance as they walk past. It's isn't entirely disapproving.

 

* * *

 

 

On the morning of their departure Kylo is slumbering peacefully between sleep and wakefulness until he feels something blunt that's definitively not a tongue pressed into his ear, followed by an obnoxious beep.

 

Kylo grabs for the offender but Hux has already retreated to the foot of the bed. He's already half-dressed for the day, in his trousers and undershirt with his with his feet bare on the floor. He hasn't plastered his hair down yet either which falls haphazardly over his brow as he examines the numbers on the thermometer he's holding. "Excellent," he says. "Even accounting for raised body temperature during sleep you're right on time."

 

"I'm not a fucking roast!" Kylo twists free of the tangle of sheets he has managed to ensnare himself in during the night and gets up, glowering at Hux.

 

"Mm-hmm," Hux says. He's even more dismissive than usual this close to Kylo's heat, and it's infuriating. "You'd be the oven that scenario. Remember to stop by medical for your pre-heat check-up, I don't know what sort of amenities will be available at the summit and I'd rather not find out."

 

Kylo stalks into the refresher and palms the door close behind him to lock it, just to make sure Hux can't get to his toothbrush if he still needs it. When he comes back out some time later, towelling his hair dry, Hux is already dressed and on his way out for his shift.

 

Kylo tosses the wet towel on the bed and starts looking around for his own clothes. They're still living between two quarters even though they spend most nights together because neither one of them can agree on who's going to move out, and they'll probably continue in the same vein for the foreseeable future. Kylo has his own space for clothes and anything else he might need in doubles now. Luckily neither one of them take up much closet space.

 

M-E who was helping Hux with his boots immediately abandons Hux to his own devices and comes whirring towards Kylo, helpfully powering up its blow-drying appendage as it approaches, it's polished black finish perfectly complimenting the rest of the room. The droid is very clear about its priorities, and Kylo still finds that both endlessly satisfying and amusing.

 

"Just get your own droid," he suggests, not for the first time.

 

"I don't need looking after," Hux says archly -- and predictably, which still hasn't stopped him from using Kylo's.

 

Kylo sits down so M-E  can reach him. His hairbrush flies into his hand from the floor next to the bed where it ended up last night and he starts working it through his hair while M-E dries it. Hux is droning on in the background, something about packing and making sure Kylo remembers to get everything he needs from his own quarters. Kylo can barely hear him over the drone of hot air in his ears, but he's sure it's the same stuff he has heard several times over the last few days.

 

"I'm listening," he lies, and hopes it's enough to satisfy Hux so he doesn't keep sending him memos all throughout the day. 

 

* * *

 

 

The conference is taking place on Maron which is a planet Kylo has never heard of before, but one the public database informs him is a popular vacation resort for wealthy nobles and politicians, which explains why it's was chosen as the destination.

 

If they can’t achieve galactic peace, at the very least the senators will be able to leave with a tan.

 

They're on the shuttle an hour out from Maron when it starts. Kylo feels hot and clammy under his clothes, an ache gathering at the base of his spine and a heat building up low in his belly that he knows will turn into cramps before long if left unattended. He rolls his neck in the vain hope that it would ease the itchy tension that's crawling along under his skin, and he must make some noise because Hux who's in the seat next to his touches his wrist where Kylo is gripping the arm of his chair.

 

"That's perfect," Hux says. He leans over and kisses him on the cheek, and even though Kylo knows it isn't technically something he has any control of, he's so, _so_ glad that it's whatever pleases Hux the most.

 

By the time they land Hux's hormones have spiked. They haven't talked or so much as looked at each other because it's the best way to avoid fucking on the floor of the shuttle, and no matter how pleased Hux is, Kylo still thinks is it's awful timing on his part. He meditates, keeps his mind far away from what's going on in his body even though it feels like the air has been sucked out of the room and his collar is growing tighter by the minute.

 

Hux does whatever it is that he does that allows him to function. Kylo is afraid to focus on him too much in case he shatters his own tenuous control, or Hux's. The hand on Kylo's arm still hasn't moved, the only outward sign of their shared predicament is how much tighter the grip has grown.

 

The shuttle unloads them and their luggage and cuts a hasty escape back towards the Unknown Regions, leaving them stranded on the landing pad of a sprawling high-end resort.

 

The large complex sticks out of the scenery like a sore thumb, surrounded on all sides by nature that has been carefully manicured to maintain an air of moderate wilderness without overwhelming city-dwelling patrons. From above it looked like a white sandcastle built too far from the shore, pale and geometrical amongst the limestone mountains and the dark green vegetation.

 

It's dusk, the sky a muted peach with a scattering of early stars behind a few half-hearted clouds, and the brief moment of cool air on Kylo's face is a welcome relief before they're ushered indoors.

 

They're a few days early. Most of the dignitaries won't be arriving for a few days yet, which means they have a couple of days to themselves before the conference officially starts. All carefully calibrated around their heat to make sure Hux doesn't spend too much time away from his favourite pastime of controlling everything, everywhere.

 

 There's a droid waiting for them to show them to their room and several more to deal with their luggage while they're taken on a long and confusing walk through the innards of the building complex.  They don't come across anyone else on the way, and it occurs to Kylo that they're taking the backways to avoid people. But he's barely aware of their surroundings anyway, all of his attention is on the hand rests lightly on his back, barely felt through several layers of clothes, but somehow all the more distracting for it.

 

Kylo doesn't see much of their room from where he finds himself bent over the nearest flat surface as soon as the door closes behind the bellhop, Hux tugging at the tight fit of his trousers while Kylo kicks his boots off his feet. There's a sound of something falling over and rolling across the floor. Neither of them pay it any mind.

 

It's so much better like this, when they can start right at the beginning of the heat rather than halfway through. He doesn't have to wait for the cramps or the misery to set in; there's only the warm heaviness in his muscles, the pleasant ache between his legs, and Hux who seems to take up the entire world with his soft hands and the heat of his breath against Kylo's neck.

 

"Stay right there," he says, and instantly that seems like an excellent idea . All Kylo wants to do is whatever Hux says, whatever makes him happy. ~~~~

He pushes back against the first touch of Hux's fingers around his entrance, fucking himself back against Hux's fingers. Hux's other hand rests lightly on the back of his neck, keeping his head down against the smooth surface of the table. Hux twists his hand, plunges in a little faster and a little harder and Kylo cries out while the vase of flowers next to his head falls of the table with a crash.

 

"Don't need the prep," he pants, one hand reaching behind himself to find Hux's.

 

"I know," Hux says. Kylo barely hears him over his own moans. "I want to."

 

He leans down over Kylo's back, traces the bumps in his spine with his tongue and teeth while he keeps fucking Kylo into a whimpering mess. The squelching sound and the wet slide of his slender fingers has Kylo's ears burning and he turns his face against the cool surface of the table while he gasps and groans, his own cock twitching and leaking freely but he's at the wrong angle to even rub off against the table.

 

Hux has four fingers inside him at the end, and Kylo waits with bated breath for the fifth, torn between wanting it and pushing Hux off him and asking for what he really needs.

 

He gets fucked there first, bent over the table a few feet from the door, first with fingers and then with Hux's cock, then again on the bed where Hux finally knots him and they settle in for the tie. His entire body feels like he's drifting on clouds, free of all tension when he doesn't have to hold himself up thanks to the pillows bunched under his hips, and he can feel the same bone-deep contentment in Hux when he leans in and kisses him, nuzzles against the side of his face while he fills Kylo up with warmth.

 

It's well into the night-cycle by the time they detach. Early afternoon according to the _Finalizer_ , but there's no particular reason or desire to move from where they are. Unlike their other shared heats they're not on the _Finalizer_ which means there isn't anything else that can require their attention, and that's an odd feeling in and of itself.   ~~~~

 “I didn't really have to come,” Kylo says eventually, shattering the silence that has settled over the bed . "You could have been here in time anyway." Kylo has suffered though heats before. It's been a while and time may have clouded his memory, but he's pretty sure they weren't worse than attending peace conferences.

 

Hux is just drifting off, his mind skirting the edged of dreaming -- a jumble of images and impressions and soft confusion that scatters before Kylo can get a clear picture of it. Something to do with sex and Snoke's throne, which feels curiously like the mattress beneath them.

 

Hux doesn't open his eyes but he stretches out his legs and keeps himself awake. His tawny lashes cast deeper shadows over the dark circles under his eyes, and maybe getting him out into the sun for a few minutes wouldn't be the worst idea.

 

"Isn’t it nice to have a holiday for a change?"

 

"No," Kylo balks because 'holiday' is practically a dirty word in Hux’s vocabulary."I could get a shuttle back to the _Finalizer,_ " he suggests, and Hux finally stops pretending that he doesn’t have an ulterior motive.

 

"I need you here to help me with the other dignitaries. To read their intentions, who can be turned to our way of thinking, who might be planning on revenge, that sort of thing."

 

"They know I can read them. Did you forget that I've been specifically barred from attending the meetings?"

 

Hux scoffs. "Everything of consequence will happen outside of the conference room. Unfortunately this means we’ll have to do some socializing and you'll have to be on your best behaviour, somehow." He barrels over the drawn-out groan Kylo lets out. "It’s only for a few days."

 

That's small comfort. "It's not just a few days, it's over a week."

 

Hux moves closer and throws an arm over him in a move that clearly says 'stop talking' and 'I want to sleep'.

 

It’s tempting and Kylo can almost forget that there’s over a week’s worth of tedium and awkward socialization ahead of him with people he hates.

 

"What kind of socializing do you mean, exactly?"

 

Hux sighs, his breath stirring Kylo's hair. "Talking to people, I expect. I'll handle that part," he's quick to add. "There is a banquet planned, and we might be invited to a few private dinners."

 

"Dinners," Kylo repeats with disgust.

 

"That's why I had M-E pack for you."

 

"Pack what for me?" Kylo asks in bewilderment.

 

Hux points towards the stack of luggage in the corner of the bedroom that Kylo had assumed was all Hux's.

 

"You bastard," he says with feeling. Hux hums and kisses the nape of his neck, and it's infuriating how quickly he can derail Kylo's perfectly justified build-up of anger.

 

"You do realize I'm completely defenceless on a planet soon to be filled with people who want me dead. You're going to have to stay with me just to make sure no one kills me and this cock that you're so fond of."

 

And that's the terrible truth of it. He can't let Hux do this alone even if he wanted to. And he very, very much wants to. And beyond that there's still the niggling hormone-induced need to please that makes it very difficult to turn Hux down -- which is of course why Hux neglected to tell him the extent of his plans until now. It's supposed to run both ways but Hux is, unfortunately, much better at taking advantage of it. He's also better at saying no which makes it twice as unfair.

 

Hux is less than subtly kissing his way across Kylo's shoulder, a leg wedging itself up between his and the movement under the covers stirs up Hux's rut-scent which is still very strong. Not just of any alpha but _his_ alpha who only does what's best for him, and of course Kylo should agree to anything he thinks is best.

 

"You owe me."

 

"I'll owe you." Hux strokes Kylo's hair away from his face and places another kiss next to his ear. "This will be good for us. You'll see."

 

He sounds excited, and Kylo has the uneasy feeling that he ought to be concerned. The last time Hux was excited he destroyed a star system.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The lack of work in a nice change of pace, but it doesn't take a force-sensitive to know that inactivity starts wearing on Hux quickly. As in, the very next morning when they're lying spooned together and Hux starts rearranging them this way and that so he can find a position where they're comfortable and he can see his datapad over Kylo's shoulder at the same time.

 

"Don't read that," Hux says as he plops the screen down on the pillow in front of Kylo's face. Kylo would, just to spite him, but he really doesn't want to. Hux is vastly overestimating his interest in stormtrooper programming and Hux's objectively awful speeches.

 

"This reminds me of our honeymoon," Kylo muses. Mostly it's just the scentless room and that they aren't  on board the _Finalizer_ , which is a little sad.

 

"We need to get out more," Hux says, his thoughts running in the same direction.

 

"Let's do something."

 

Hux lifts his head off Kylo's hair and when Kylo turns to look at him they're so close his eyes blur.

 

"You want to do something? I assume mean something other than what we're doing right now."

 

"There has to _something_ to do on this planet if people come here."

 

"You want to go sight-seeing in the middle of your heat?"

 

"I feel fine," Kylo says, and it's true. He refrains from asking Hux how he's holding up because the only answer Kylo is likely to get is _perfectly_ , at all times. But he feels clear-headed and the only ache in his body is from where he's currently stretched around Hux's knot. It's quite possibly the shortest heat he's ever had, and the thought cheers him up immensely, whereas Hux just frowns at him as if he is doing something wrong again.

 

"You feel fine," he repeats woodenly. "Three days is your bare minimum, and you're done in one?"

 

Kylo shrugs, a bit put out that Hux is so determined to find fault with _everything_ he does. "Maybe we're getting better at this. You should be happy that you can get back to work sooner."

 

Hux huffs. He pushes Kylo's head forward to open up some space between them and moves the datapad over between them instead where it sits, shockingly cold and angular between Kylo's shoulders.

 

"Stop pushing me! I'm attached."

 

"Yes, but not at the neck," Hux says calmly. His free hand wanders over Kylo's chest, clearly in an attempt to distract him, which is underhanded but effective. Kylo has almost fallen back asleep several minutes later when Hux says. "Maybe tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

 

The next day they venture outside of their suite which has already started feeling claustrophobic. It isn't theirs and it's no substitute for a nest, and the sooner Kylo is away from it for good, the better.

 

Few of the guests have arrived which means they don't run into nearly anyone, and the few people they do see cut a wide berth around them, either because of Hux's rut-scent or because they've killed a lot of people. Probably both.

 

In either case it means they have the pool to themselves.

 

Maron is a temperate planet just approaching its summer season, and for the day it's pleasantly mild and sunny. A breeze blows through the trees that sway over the privacy fence that walls off the resort from the outside world and the sky is a clear azure blue that's reflected in the scented water of the hotel pool when Kylo plunges into it.

 

There's a fresh bite on his neck that stings in the chemically treated water along a dozen or a hundred little marks and bruises scattered across his body, which is probably the only reason Hux didn't object to him stripping down to his trunks to swim, even if there's practically no one else around to see them.

 

It's an odd thing to be aware of them but not to care beyond that whether people see them or not. Not too many years ago Kylo would have balked at the thought of walking around wearing someone else's marks, but he can't really remember what that felt like anymore.

 

He swims lap after lap while Hux reclines in the shade, doing a passable job of pretending to be reading and not watching Kylo like a hawk from behind his shaded glasses.  Hux is wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt and if Kylo didn't have his head under water half the time he'd have a hard time keeping his eyes off him.

 

The water blocks Hux's scent but Kylo can feel his agitation like the heat off a furnace batting against him every time he draws closer to Hux's end of the pool. Eventually he pulls himself out of the water and walks over to Hux to drip scented water all over him and his data-pad. Hux looks up and slips his shades down his nose,  sheltered in the shadow Kylo has cast over him. Rather than slowing down after the exercise Kylo's pulse speeds up. He grabs Hux's arm and pulls him up off the lounge chair before he can do anything irrational like lying down on top of him.  

 

They go back upstairs and fuck in the shower and then in the bed again after they've order food in, and by nightfall Hux starts to resemble a normal person again. Or as close as he gets, anyhow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo fails at evading his past and General Organa is more devious than Hux gave her credit for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait between chapters. Best laid plans and all that. My trusty companion for the last ten years (give or take every component aside from the case) finally gave out on me and replacing it was an adventure in frustration such as can only be provided by the Finnish postal service during christmas rush. 
> 
> Since we still haven’t officially heard anything about the other knights of ren I’m going to keep imagining them as a group of losers worthy of Kylo. I mean, one of them already comes in a trash can. For inspiration: http://alyruko.tumblr.com/post/136241925131/disney-if-you-havent-come-up-with-backstory-for

 

Once the conference is officially off to a start Kylo sees less and less of Hux. It’s right on the tail end of their heat but just in time before Hux starts going stir-crazy for the lack of work, so Kylo can’t be entirely upset over the loss of him in bed in the mornings.

 

He seriously considers just hiding out in their suite until Hux forces him to attend some function or other, which he has been threatening to do, but to put it frankly he gets bored, and it seems a pity not to take advantage of the fact that he’s posted on a nice planet for a change. ~~~~

They serve iced tea in the pool lounge during the day, and with the resort cleared out for the conference and nearly everyone attending the meetings, there public areas are next to abandoned during certain hours of the day.

 

That isn’t to say that he’s alone in his idleness. There are other spouses, lovers and assistants meandering about, and bodyguards who pretend to be anything but because private protection is technically prohibited according to the rules laid out for the conference. Hux isn’t the only one who has managed to get around that particular inconvenience, and Kylo is the target of a few irritable looks from the bodyguards who recognize that he could kill their charges with a though if he felt like it.  

 

So while Hux is attending the conference Kylo wiles away the long hours of the morning lounging in the open air bar with a serving of iced tea and a bowl of lime wedges that he talked the serving droid into giving him.

 

It is infernally hot even under the shade of the roof and a with cacophony of clattering fans overhead, and Kylo has been forced to forego a few layers from his usual uniform, but it’s peaceful and relatively quiet and the air smells like trees and leaves and flowers rather than the insides of the _Finalizer’s_ air ducts.  He has his datapad with him so he can keep up with mission reports and communications that have piled up during their heat leave. Most are from the other Knights of Ren who are spread out across the galaxy, complaining about their own generals and admirals and planets that are trying to kill them. One of the transmissions obnoxiously ends with “have a good time!” and some sort of smiling face icon, which is _completely_ inappropriate for an elite order of their calibre. The sentiment is echoed although less stupidly stated by some of the others.

 

Kylo is going to have to have _words_ with them.

 

“Buy you a drink?”  

 

He’s brought of his internal outrage by a familiar voice and Kylo looks up to see Poe Dameron of all people standing over him.

 

He hasn’t seen the alpha since Jakku, where Kylo had preformed a swift and ruthless field interrogation and then conveniently left the pilot with a guard weak-willed enough to allow him to escape. Admittedly that decision had sort of snowballed from there, the extent of which is one of those things Kylo is _never_ going to admit to Hux.

 

Without any input from Kylo, Poe winces. “You know, I don’t know why I said that. I don’t really want to buy you a drink. Force of habit.” He rakes a hand through his already rakishly tousled hair and Kylo feels a renewed surge of irritation steal over him. Dameron is perfect poster boy material, and now that the Resistance is officially out of hiding Kylo expects inspirational pictures of him to start popping up everywhere.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I don’t know.” Poe shrugs with one shoulder, making an attempt at relaxed ease but his stance is anything but. “I just thought it would be even more awkward if I pretended I couldn’t see you all week, but I may have been wrong about that.” He sighs and the silence stretches out until he breaks it again. “You look good, all things considered.”

 

Kylo’s brushes his fingers over the still-healing scar on his face in a self-conscious impulse before he can stop himself.

 

“Not that. Healthy, I mean.” He glances sidelong at Kylo’s half-eaten bowl of lime wedges. “Must be all the vitamins.” Kylo doesn’t offer him any, but he does slide a chair a few inches forward until the cushioned seat prods against the back of Dameron’s legs.

 

“Sit.”

 

Dameron sits.

 

 “You’re angry.” Kylo doesn’t know why he’s surprised. ~~~~

Dameron had been frightened the last time they met but defiant, and before that nothing but gentle kindness personified, but now his lightly stubbled jaw is clenched, his dark eyes cold against their nature. His emotions are no easier to make sense of than the conflict on his face. He is angry but there’s softness there too, albeit reluctantly. He thinks Kylo looks happy – he’s genuinely pleased about that – and Kylo can’t wrap his head around it.

 

“Well, yeah. You tried to kill my friends and you nearly succeeded.”

 

Well there is that. Kylo’s feels an involuntary tic in his jaw and looks away. He doesn’t want to think about it, and he certainly doesn’t want to talk about it. The scar on his face is reminder enough of his failure.

 

Kylo turns over one of the thermal glasses on the trey and fills it up from the pot. Cold vapour forms in the air above the drink and the glass fogs up with condensation.

 

“There’s also the matter of what you did to me the last time I was unfortunate enough to run into you,” Poe says darkly, but he accepts the glass Kylo pushes towards him.

 

“I saved your life. Not for sentimental reasons," he clarifies in case the pilot harbours any idealistic beliefs about that. "I was repaying a favour."

 

"You _tortured_ me," Dameron points out, his tone hard and not a little bit hurt, and Kylo doesn't like the way it attempts to drag up things he's determined not to engage with.

 

"I saved your life," he repeats, stressing the words since Poe seems to be slow on the uptake.

 

Dameron hasn't seen what Hux dreams about at night, but Kylo is sure he wouldn't like to experience them firsthand. Just as little as Kylo wants Hux to go through with it them. It would change him and those clean, lofty dreams of violence from a man who is so far removed from the reality of it.

 

“Do me a favour and stay away from Hux.”

 

Poe cocks his head to the side. “Do I owe you a favour now?”

 

Kylo huffs in annoyance and turns his glare out at the cerulean-blue of the swimming pool that glitters in the sunlight beyond the roof that shelters the bar. “It's in your own best interest. Unless you want to provoke him.”

 

Poe regards him silently for a heartbeat or two before he says, "I'm not sure about it being in my best interests, but I'm guessing it's in yours. Don't worry. I'm not here to cause trouble. Your mother didn't bring me here for that. At least I didn’t think so.” He sets his empty glass down on the table. “Thanks for the drink.”

 

“I'm not worried,” Kylo objects softly, but something else has caught his attention. Emotions are easier to pick up on than thoughts, left to drift whereas thoughts can be held back and guarded, and what he reads from Poe is affection and admiration when General Organa comes up. Familiarity.

 

The question rises up unbidden from the hole it’s been hiding in for the last several years. “Does she know about, um, what happened?” He trails off, unable and unwilling to put words to what he wants to say, and even Poe flushes under his skin. It’s a good look for him, and one that’s a little too familiar.

 

“Yeah. Of course.” There’s a brief and excruciatingly awkward pause. “There was a mission briefing. You’re lucky you didn’t have to sit through _that_.” Poe says wryly, but his demeanour has softened, as if it takes an effort for him to hold onto a grudge even when Kylo did technically torture him. He has to wonder who fucked out whose brains, exactly, and how long they’re going to suffer the after-effects of that, because he still doesn’t particularly feel like Poe Dameron being alive is a problem he immediately needs to rectify.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After his run in with Poe, Kylo decides to take himself elsewhere. The next day he takes a turn through the resort’s botanical garden to meditate. It’s the size of a park, several acres of exotic and not-so-exotic plant life gathered from various planets and brought together under one huge glass dome.

 

Kylo spends most of his time on the _Finalizer_ where the only signs of life are the rest of the crew who he is none too fond of, and too many planets in the galaxy seem to be designed to offer the most inhospitable environments possible. It’s a nice change to be able to take a walk through a hothouse garden with nothing more to worry about than possible pollen allergies and being shat on by exotic avians.

 

With his senses open it’s impossible not to feel her presence. He has been aware of her since she landed, just as he knows she is of him, but now he feels her growing closer like an oncoming storm. Or a launched missile, moving inexorably towards him with alarming speed and purpose.

 

He freezes, indulges in a moment of pure panic where he tries to convince himself it isn’t happening, that Leia Organa isn’t stalking him out like a wild predator in a jungle. But she can feel him too and she knows exactly where to find him, with him caged in a maze made up of quaint little stone paths and gurgling streams, and before he can consider forcing his way through the hedges to make his escape, she catches up to him.

 

He knew she would be present at the conference. It was foolish to hope he wouldn’t have to face her, and even more so to dare to hope that she wouldn’t seek him out and corner him if she could. Knowing that doesn’t stop the tight, nauseous weight of what feels inevitably like fear from clenching around his chest. He braces himself against the pain.

 

Her mouth moves but neither of them speak. She looks older, smaller than he remembers, but that feeling of anguish she instils in him hasn't lessened at all. She reflects the same kind of astonished scrutiny back at him, and he wonders what she saw the last time she really _looked_ at him and saw what was in front of her. She's not the way he remembers her either. Softer, frayed at the edges like a worn-down piece of fabric, and he's the one who did that to her.

 

He’s aware of the throb in his neck from Hux's latest bite mark, the line of bruises on his wrists and the soreness at the base of his spine that would have another man limping.  He's still covered from neck to toe but it feels like she sees all of them; every cut and bruise and lash mark that has healed and faded over the last years, and he hates her for making him feel like his choices are something to be pitied for.

 

Her touch is clumsy. She’s nowhere near as trained or as powerful as he is and she wouldn't be able to read him at all if he could only control that dark, faceless tide of emotion that presses up into his throat and breaks out over his skin in a cold sweat.

 

There's no helmet to hide behind which means his scent isn't hidden anymore either, and his mother is able to smell his mate on him even if she didn't already know. If he was stronger he would wish to have been there to see her face when someone informed her of whom exactly it was her son was mated to, but he's weak in that aspect as well and he'd rather just be away from her. Wishes he could banish her into some fathomless void where she isn’t and never was his mother, and never made him feel the way he feels just then.

 

He can already tell what she thinks by the clenched line of her jaw and the down turned slope of her mouth. It takes some effort to remind himself that that's a good thing, that approval isn't something he wants or needs from her.  But she still smells the same, and unlike Poe’s easygoing sex-associated scent, it’s a smell that commands respect and obedience.

 

He can’t help pushing back. It’s a defence mechanism but it’s also the way he has communicated with her since before his earliest memories, and it comes more naturally than speaking.

 

He can see what sort of match she had wanted for him; someone kind and morally upstanding with a gentle hand to guide him in the right direction, to smooth over the jagged edges she kept cutting herself on. Someone who would fix him and bring back to her that perfect little boy she held in her arms, who loved being read to and loved her bantha milk custard, and loved _her_.

 

He wrenches himself away from her. He was concerned about her ability to see through him, but reading her is even worse and he should have known better. _Weak_ , he admonishes himself, and he wishes fervently for his helmet because his eyes are burning, and he knows she can tell just by looking at him.

 

"It's not too late, Ben," she says. "He's a monster. A mass murderer, I know you can't be impartial to that."

 

"At least he isn't a petty criminal," he snaps back and opens himself the gaping wound that's still yawning there, waiting for him. The pain is supposed to strengthen him.

 

Leia doesn't allow herself to react to the statement. She would have come expecting it and prepared herself accordingly. The set of her jaw is unyielding, her eyes hard and loving at once.

 

"Your father loved you, Ben. _I_ love you, and I forgive you."

 

He doesn't let her continue. Not even saving face is as important as getting away from her. She doesn’t call out after him or follow him, but then again she doesn’t need to. She already has what she came for.

 

He makes his way through the maze half-blind until he can escape back into the complex, his stomach lurching up into his throat with every step. He gets to the end of the hall where the turbolift is with a hand braced against the wall to keep himself upright while the world around him feels like it’s turning on its head and his stomach surging up to meet it.

 

His hands are shaking, itching for the grip of his lightsaber and the cleansing outpour of energy that comes with releasing it, but thanks to the _stupid_ rule of armistice during the summit he doesn't have that either. He desperately wants to reach out to Hux just to feel him, but in his agitated state he's afraid Organa will be able to sense it and he clamps down on the impulse and slips into the turbolift when the doors finally open. Only then does the real danger dawn on him. _He wants to go to Hux for comfort_. To have him take away all the difficult, painful things that Kylo can't cope with rather than harnessing the raw emotion the way he ought to.

 

Kylo knew she would be there; _Snoke_ knew she would be there, just as well as he knew Kylo would be too weak to face her. It has to be some kind of test. One which he has failed spectacularly because the answer can’t possibly be “run to Hux”.

_"I'm not here to coddle you. If you want to be spoiled go cry to the Supreme Leader. I'm here to be mean and cruel to you."_ Hux hadn't meant it when he said it, not really, but he should have. Placidity is weakness, and Hux can't be a source of stillness and comfort because then Kylo would have to be separated from him. Already he knows they're getting along easier than Snoke would prefer. It's only thanks to Hux's own inability to recognize his emotions that they've been getting by thus far without provoking Snoke into taking action.

 

Snoke pushed them together for any number of reasons, some Kylo can guess and others that he can only guess at. Partially to teach them a lesson no doubt, but mostly to control them; to make sure that there would be no risk of Kylo forming a bond with anyone outside of his sphere of influence. In this way Snoke has extended his control over the both of them and he can oversee Kylo’s development to make sure there aren’t any setbacks.

 

Snoke is intimately familiar with Kylo’s mind, every nook and cranny where shame and weakness hide, which means he must have counted on Hux to remain dispassionate about their relationship. But Kylo has had years to wear away at Hux like water on stone; all those dreams he has of the Arkanis of his childhood, standing at the water’s edge with the waves eating away the black sand under his feet, and his resentment unerringly fixated on Kylo. He knows what Hux thinks when he looks at him like he’s carrying some infectious disease, and he isn’t wrong. _Yes, I did this to you. Not me but that pitiful boy who loves his mother_. And if Hux wakes up one morning and realizes just how much of himself he has already lost, neither one of them will be able to hide it from the Supreme Leader.

 

Obnoxiously cheerful music wafts through the speakers as the turbolift ascends. Kylo may not have his lightsaber, but he doesn't really need it. He wrenches a light fixture out of the wall and decimates the control panel. The music winds down to a drone before the panel erupts in a shower of sparks and dies completely. The lift grinds to a stop and the remaining light blinks out, leaving Kylo panting in the darkness. The intensity of emotion leaves him and he's able to draw deep breaths and collect himself. He needs to meditate where he won’t be disturbed and regain his resolve. Organa will be able to sense any conflict in him and he can’t afford to encourage her any more than he already has.

 

He won't be free of her or Ben before she's dead. After the conference Snoke will give the order, and it doesn't matter if Kylo isn’t ready to see it through now, because he will be ready when the time comes. He and Hux will be safe then. There's a limited amount of light that can be allowed in between them – some things should remain in the dark, and Hux has no need or desire for Ben’s useless love anyway. ~~~~

 The emergency light over the door comes on and bathes the cabin in flickering red, hazy from the smoke that’s rising from the wrecked panel. Someone will be along to see what the problem in sooner or later, but Kylo has no intention of waiting around for that.

 

The cabin has stopped between two floors, but with a little effort he's able to open the second set of doors and squeeze himself out into the hallway on the floor above.

 

Let them try to figure that one out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The meetings take up a significant amount of Hux’s days. They’re long and dreary and ultimately meaningless in what they attempt to accomplish, but he can’t say he isn’t enjoying himself.  

 

It’s all fruitless of course. Hux isn’t there for peace -- he’s _winning_. The Starkiller may be gone, but no one is willing to bet their planet on the assumption that he doesn’t have another one squared away somewhere in the Unknown Regions, or the resources to build one. Whether that is the case or not, Hux delights in their anxious speculation. The furtive glances and the clenched jaws; the hint of fear behind their eyes when they meet his. It’s exquisite.

 

That being said, the First Order lost a significant amount of resources and allowing the remaining republic worlds to come grovelling at their feet would be a far more efficient strategy than relying on superior firepower. Time and knowledge is valuable – to know which powers will form allegiances, which leaders will cave under pressure and which will betray their neighbours for the right price – a task which is made so much easier when he has Ren with him.

 

The delegates that bothered showing up are encouragingly few, barely numbering in the  hundreds and they fit well into the largest conference room the resort has to offer, all of them sequestered into equally uncomfortable seats in a half-circle around a long-suffering moderator at the centre.

 

Organa is openly representing the Resistance for the first time, just as he is with the First Order, a fact they both acknowledge as they send veiled glares at each other from across the conference room. Hux got rid of the majority of his own competition during his ascension up the ranks and there haven't been many opportunities for him to challenge himself since then. Ren has always been challenging in all the wrong ways, and a part of him is has been looking forward to measuring himself against her. Regardless of what they accomplish during the week, the ability to finally face her openly without any pretence on either part is its own reward.

 

Just like him she is there to solicit support; to identify the ones that are loyalt her, the ones that have already thrown their lot in with the Order, and the ones who pretend to serve one side while they deal under the table with the other. Hux isn’t overly concerned about the absentees; they’re the ones who will hide under their beds when the First Orders ships are in orbit around their planets. The same goes for Organa’s supporters who will fight themselves into annihilation, which suits him just fine. It’s the undecided and the dignitaries from the neutral systems that are of interest to him.

 

The senators present are disproportionally in favour of surrender, either because they were already supporting the First Order in secret or because they value their homes. Hux is there to make that choice easier for them. The only thing left for them to decide is how much of a fight they want to put up, and knowing the Republic as he does, it won’t be much. It’s a truth that pleases him as much as he is sure it must devastate Organa, and he hopes she can feel the foundations of her failed democracy crumbling away from under her.

 

 

Hux is feeling good about himself and the world in general after the day’s negotiations. They have a tendency to dissolve into pointless bickering and back-and-forths until everyone agrees to adjourn, only to carry on with the same perpetual cycle the next day. It only confirms what Hux already knows: that they need someone – someone with _vision—_ to tell them what to do if anything at all is to be accomplished.

 

He’s still half engaged in conversation with two representatives from Talaan – a neutral system in the outer rim – who have invited him to share lunch in their suite where they can speak privately, when he spots Kylo coming down the hall in the opposite direction.

 

Hux has no force sensitivity, and fairytales about bondmates being able to sense each other or read each others’ thought have no bearing on him. Still there is always that initial swell of unexpected pleasure when Hux sees him, which he writes off as a biologically conditioned response and familiarity. There’s an answering… _something_ reflected on Kylo’s face when he stops and steps to the side to wait for them to pass – for Hux to reach him.

 

Then Hux catches it. The smell. Just a faint whiff of it. It would be unnoticeable to anyone else, anyone who doesn’t know exactly what Kylo is _supposed_ to smell like — warm and rich with a dark undertone like fired plasma weapons — and like _Hux_ , not _Poe fucking Dameron_.

 

It’s not unlike being drenched in cold water. The blood drains from his face so quickly that he can feel himself going cold and his hearing fades away like his ears have popped. Kylo’s eyes widen in alarm.

 

“Hux—” Kylo starts says warningly. Not at all the disarming way he usually says his name.  Hux doesn’t let him get any further than that. He grabs Kylo by the arm and pulls him off in the direction that he came from, leaving his two new friends gaping after them in wonder.

 

With his mate firmly in his grasp he calms down a little. He’s sure that he does because there is some higher brain function involved as he scans the hallway for vacant rooms. As always Kylo could easily resist him, and as always he doesn’t, but he’s already rambling by the time Hux barges into the first room he sees and pulls him inside. Kylo isn’t chatty by any standards and the fact that he’s downright babbling now does nothing to alleviate whatever it is that’s making Hux’s hands shake. He has no idea what Kylo is actually saying. Something about Hux being an idiot.

 

It’s a smaller conference room they find themselves in, empty aside from a few cupboards and a foreboding steel table with a set of equally sinister high-baked chairs around it. Hux crowds Kylo towards the table, driven by the urge to leave marks on his wrists and neck where they will ward of undeserving eyes.

 

 “Nothing happened, you’re overreacting,” Kylo informs him, presumable not for the first time. “I ran into him at the bar. _Organa_ brought him here on purpose.” He spits her name like a curse and Hux wishes he’d give Dameron the same treatment.

 

Hux nods with the flawed comprehension of someone who knows that what he’s hearing is rational, but isn’t really listening anyway. His hands are on Kylo, running his over any part of him that scent might be clinging to. It’s all over his clothes and his hair, so much worse close up even though the scent keeps eluding him, like it’s taunting him, but he knows it’s there – knows it the way only someone who has the stench of that nerf-fucking resistance pilot seared into their brains can.

 

He peels aside Kylo’s collar so he can get to his skin, sucking and licking at his neck to make sure he smells like what he’s supposed to there. Kylo moans and his nervous prattle dies off, his hand clenching at Hux’s waist as he eventually he gets with the program.

 

“Hux?”

 

 _That’s better._ “I hear you,” he says absently. His voice sounds far away to his own ears. Kylo makes a move to grab Hux’s hands but he thinks better of it and lets them fall to the side instead so Hux can touch him unimpeded. So accommodating, _supportive,_ as if Hux is the one in need of soothing words and patience and that pisses him off too, because Kylo is so yielding when he wants to be, but he wouldn’t even be here if not for the grace of the Supreme Leader, and no matter what they tell themselves or how deeply under Kylo’s skin Hux can ingrain himself, they’ll never truly belong to each other and they never have.

 

Hux pins Kylo against the table, struggling against the strong arms that are around him to get their clothes out of the way, his mate’s rare ability to go from zero to enthusiastic octopus in the blink of an eye doing more to confuse Hux’s efforts than actual help. And it’s not that Hux is adverse to uncoordinated make-out sessions, but that isn’t what they’re here for.

 

Kylo finally breaks away with a yelp when Hux bites him on the edge of his jaw. It’s not the fun kind of bite; nothing but pinched skin and very high up where it’ll be impossible conceal. Kylo slaps a hand over the abused spot, his face flushed with more than arousal and flustered to the point where he’s actually spluttering, and it’s cute. Usually he doesn’t mind, but usually there aren’t as many people around to see.

 

“You don’t need to _do_ that. I’m not going to—“

“I know that,” Hux says impatiently. Of course he knows that. But once he has Kylo properly marked and scented he’ll know it _even more_ , and that will be better. He doesn’t bother explaining this to his puzzled mate because it doesn’t sound entirely rational even in his own head.  “I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he says as clearly and as slowly as he can to ensure that he won’t have to repeat himself, “but what I really need you to do is lie back and spread your legs.” _While I go over every inch of your body that fiend has so much as looked at._

He takes advantage of Kylo’s stunned – possibly offended – distraction to undress him.

 

So many fucking layers, but that’s good, because he smells more like himself the more of them Hux sheds; of himself and the heady hint of arousal and lingering chemicals from the hotel pool. Hux buries his face in the crook of Kylo’s neck and breathes in deeply while he rucks Kylo’s shirt up over his chest and works his trousers open with impatient hands, finding himself quite abruptly at the end of his tether.

 

Bringing him here was a monumental error in judgement on Hux’s part.

 

Kylo ought to be locked away on the _Finalizer_ where everyone fears him and no one would think about approaching him, let alone getting their scent anywhere near him. In the back of his head Hux knows it’s ludicrous. He needs Kylo here where he can be of use. He’s just suffering from the lingering effects of the rut and being around too many strange people. It’s perfectly normal.

 

Sometimes Hux misses that infernal bucket, though.

 

Kylo is still making noises so Hux turns him around and bends him over the table, one hand squeezing tight at the back of Kylo’s neck in a clear implication to _stay_ , which doesn’t go unheeded. Kylo lets go, his breath shuddering through him and palms flexing against the surface of the table while Hux pulls his trousers down his thighs.

 

Kylo is already valiantly trying to get wet for him when Hux presses two fingers inside, the scent of arousal filling the room and growing stronger, blissfully blocking out everything else.  Hux twists his fingers; crooks them down to rub against his prostate and Kylo jumps and curses, his moan dwindling down into a drawn-out mewl when Hux doesn’t let up. It’s cheating but Hux’s breath is already short and the rush of blood loud in his ears, and he won’t be able to hold off for much longer.

 

“This feels excessive,” Kylo complains into the table, then, “Ohh, fuck, right there,” and more to that effect, voice strained and  interspersed with gaps when Hux finally presses inside, feeling Kylo’s body open and stretch over his cock before swallowing him into that heat; tight but not too much so when Kylo rocks his hips back to meet him. He doesn’t sound frustrated so much as bemused, struggling to get the words out between hitching breaths and partially stifled cries when Hux digs his teeth into his neck until he tastes metal on his tongue.

 

He doesn’t give Kylo much time to adjust, knowing he can take it, and sets up a hard pace as soon as he can move freely, picking up speed as the grip around him grows slicker and softer, until he’s knocking Kylo into the table with more force that is probably called for, spurred on by the base, dark satisfaction that coils in the pit of his belly at the sight of his mate pinned and crying out beneath him.

 

It doesn’t last long. He chases his orgasm down, his pleasure is merely the means to an end and his entire body is wound too tightly to allow him to give himself over to the enjoyment the act. He makes sure to hit Kylo’s prostate with every thrust, making no effort to draw the act out for him either. He is aware of where they are and that he isn’t exactly sure whether he locked the door or not. Belatedly he claps his hand over Kylo’s mouth to keep the noise down and feels tongue and teeth against his fingers through the leather of the glove.

 

He takes Kylo’s cock in hand, hot and slick even through the leather and he’s going to have to throw the gloves away but it’s worth it when Kylo shudders and cries out, his cock jerking in Hux’s grip and spilling over Hux’s fingers and the floor and his hole pulsing tightly around Hux’s length.

 

He only just manages not to force his knot inside. He pulls out before he can come, withdrawing his hand from Kylo’s mouth and letting him slump down against the table with a wet gasp. The glove is still hot from Klylo’s mouth, the leather soft and wet as Hux twists his hand around his shaft and brings himself off with a few sharp tugs. He comes over Kylo’s back, watching his red, swollen hole gaping open beckoningly before it winks close and the way Kylo’s muscles flinch under his skin at the first rope of come, and each one that follows. Hux leans over his back and laves the new bite mark with his tongue, chasing the last lingering taste of blood to make sure there isn’t any more while his hand squeezes the last of his release out of his cock and then rubs it into Kylo’s skin.

 

Kylo shudders and whimpers, probably in disgust, but Hux shushes him. It seems like a great idea at the time.

 

Once he’s done and he can breathe again Hux stumbles back and into one of the waiting chairs and has to grab the edge of the table before he swivels away from it, feeling ravaged and lost in the wake of the wildfire as it leaves him.

 

Gradually realization dawns and he groans. He nearly buries his face in his hands before the smell hits him and he realizes why his hands feel so stiff and tacky.

 

Kylo makes another disgusted noise when he reaches around to touch his back but it’s hopeless, the mess well and truly rubbed in and he finally gives up. He stands up with a baleful stare in Hux’s direction and reluctantly pulls his clothes back into place. He walks, somewhat stiffly, to the end of the room and throws a window open. Hux gingerly works the gloves off without getting any of the mess on his hands and tries to re-establish some sort of equilibrium. He banishes any and all thoughts of the resistance pilot from his mind. There’s no release to be had there short of murder, and that’s not an option. For the time being.

 

 _Perfectly normal_ , he reminds himself as he tucks himself away and straightens his uniform as best as he can without getting up because he isn’t sure his legs can carry him yet. His hormone balance is probably still affected — this was merely a case of too many strange alphas around and his instincts going into overdrive.

 

Well, mission accomplished. Anyone within twenty meters of Kylo would have to be wearing a respirator not to smell Hux on him.  He sincerely hopes the room won’t be used for anything else for a good long while before the stench airs out. It’s unbearable. Obnoxious sex-scent and posturing, because that’s what it really smells like: insecurity.

 

That _odious woman_. Of course she’d use every weapon in her arsenal, especially if she had one that she knew would affect Hux on such a personal level. And he can’t believe he fell for it so easily, played to her tune so blindly. At least it wasn’t in public, and Kylo doesn’t appear to be any more distressed than he would be by random sex in the middle of the day any other time, which is to say not at all.

 

As if summoned, Kylo’s hand claps down on his shoulder, patting him twice in consolation. “That was pretty bizarre even for you,” he says conversationally. “Feel any better?”

 

“I feel mortified,” Hux says honestly. _Humiliated_. Kylo rounds the chair and places himself in Hux’s field of vision. He leans back against the table, thankfully some distance away from the mess.

 

“Do you remember when we started this and you didn’t have a clue what to do with me or what I needed?”

 

 _“No_.” Hux glares at him. If there is a worse time to bring up his other shortcomings, Hux can’t imagine it.

 

Kylo goes on as if he hadn’t heard him. “Maybe we should figure out what you need because it’s obviously something, and I’d prefer that we came up with a less messy solution.”

 

Hux blushes furiously. “I don’t _need_ anything.”

 

 “Hux,” Kylo says, his tone fond and amused and enough to make the heat crawl back into Hux’s cheeks. “You’ve done your worst long before now. I’m not going to leave.”

 

What is he supposed to say to that? Thank you? “I know that,” Hux repeats and tosses his head away from him when Kylo goes to touch him.

 

Of course he isn’t going anywhere. Kylo is clingy and co-dependent and Hux has worked very hard and patiently to make sure he stays that way. He _can_ _’t_ leave. Technically he isn’t even legally allowed to according to the prenuptial agreement they signed, which ought to have settled that uneasy feeling that still manages to creep up on Hux now, and he can’t explain why when there’s no logical reason for it. This was supposed to stop when they were mated.

 

No. Kylo is the insecure one in this relationship, not him. There are just too many new people around and Organa successfully managed to dredge up some _unpleasant_ memories by bringing Dameron to the table. Damn her. He’d admire the sheer underhandedness of the move if he hadn’t fallen for it so soundly.

 

He clears his throat and says, “That was very good of you,” to Kylo because it feels like one of those situations where praise is called for. “Thank you. Now go take a shower _immediately_ and try not to run into anyone else on the way back to our room.”

 

Kylo stalls just long enough to suggest that he’s thinking about _not_ doing that, but he finally takes pity on Hux. “Sure.” He leans in to give him a parting peck on the mouth, and he can’t miss Hux’s enduring frown. “I’d get bored if I did what you say all the time. And so would you.”

 

“I don’t know where you’ve come up with this idea that I want a life of strife and misery,” Hux mutters, but there might be something to what Kylo says.

 

 Kylo cocks his head and almost-but-not-quite smiles at him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to make a round through the dining room first? It’s just the right time for the lunch crowd.”

 

“ _Shower_.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for the comments. They really do keep me going when my brain isn't cooperating or editing is kicking my ass. Constructive criticism is welcome too. 
> 
> You can also find me at my rarely used tumblr (tethysian . tumblr . com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux plays mediator between Kylo and his mother and Kylo does whatever he can to get out of engagements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for what is probably the sappiest chapter I've written thus far. I'm making up for it in the next one.

By the following afternoon’s conference Hux has spent too much time being laughed at by Kylo in private for him to put up with any of it in public. Luckily no one appears to have caught on to his brief moment on insanity. Not even the two dignitaries from Talaan who were present make any mention of his abrupt departure the day before and graciously agree to reschedule their lunch meeting.

They’re both tall and willowy women with fully grey hair, and quite frankly Hux has a hard time telling them apart under their stiff robes and towering hats. The end of the day’s meeting finds him with one of them who is, for some infernal reason, showing him baby pictures. Something pink and hairy and wrinkled and downright grotesque that turns out to be her newborn grandchild. Hux tries his best not to grimace or ask her what exactly her daughter bred with to produce _that_.

 It reminds him a little too much of being a much younger and lower-ranked officer climbing up the ranks in the First Order. It’s been a long time since Hux has been forced to suck up to anyone but the Supreme Leader, who does, granted, gush inappropriately about Kylo from time to time, but at least there aren’t any baby pictures involved for Hux to coo at.

“Charming,” he says stiffly, and she does the cooing for both of them.

Unexpectedly it’s General Organa who shows up to save him by approaching him willingly for the first time since the conference started.

"I’m sorry to interrupt Lady Lora. General, I'd like a word with you if you don’t mind." She spares a warm look for Landa who nods in acquiescence and the two of them engage in some more gushing. Hux clenches his jaw, still smarting from the humiliation she dealt him, but he would literally rather consort with his greatest enemy than sit through another set of pictures. Besides, he can hardly deny her conversation. ~~~~

"Of course, General." He bids good-bye to Lora and lets Organa lead him to a more private spot. Around them the meeting is dissolving, groups forming and breaking up as the diplomats file out of the conference hall discussing their plans for the rest of the day with far more enthusiasm than displayed during the negotiations.

Hux clasps his arms behind his back and resists the urge to look out over the diminutive woman's head. He knows he can’t keep all the emotion off his face, still reeling and embarrassed over her brief, _temporary_ victory over him. But she's _tiny_ and he can't believe Kylo came out of her. Maybe those rumours about her being in labour for three days are true. It would be so like Kylo to make a nuisance himself before he’s even born.

"How can I be or service, General?"

"I want to see my son." Hux raises his eyebrows. True to her reputation she cuts right to the chase. "He's been avoiding me."

_Can't imagine why_. Hux is feeling rather cornered himself. Be that as it may, he is pleased to have her acknowledge his position as Kylo's alpha, even if she's basically admitting that it is as a last resort.

"You'll have to forgive his poor manners,” he says and hopes it’s enough to insinuate a lack of proper upbringing on her part. ~~~~

"I'd like to speak with him."

"Nothing would make me happier than to satisfy you, General, but if he doesn't wish to speak to you I see no reason to force him. I _could_ command him, I suppose, but that seems rather at odd with your ideological sensibilities.”

Organa doesn’t say anything, but the unamused slant of her mouth and the barely-contained fury behind her eyes is intimately familiar.

There are laws, of course, that she could make use of. Depending on which planet the involved parties were born on, et cetera and various other considerations, she does have some legal standing. She is Kylo's former Alpha, and Hux didn’t officially ask for her permission to take him. There are protocols in place within the Republic to protect omegas from being stolen away or forced to bond under duress without the approval of their parents, which would technically apply to Ren because he is still a citizen of the new galactic republic on paper. Hux wonders if Organa is desperate enough to try that route, and if he really wants her to, just so he can push back. The idea of all that paperwork is momentarily tantalizing.

_No, he_ _certainly doesn't._ He tells himself firmly. _That's petty and ridiculous._

"It's a peace conference, General,” she says at last. “I’m sure we have plenty to discuss. There are some points I'd be willing to go over with you and bring to the attention of my associates if the two of you would be kind enough to join me for dinner."

So it's to be bribes, then. Hux has always liked to be on the receiving end of those.

"We're rather full up for dinners for the next few days. How about lunch?"

"Fine. Tomorrow then. Let’s make it breakfast.”

“Very well,” he agrees. The earlier the better. With any luck Kylo will be too tired to put up much of a fight.

 

* * *

 

 

"Forget it! I'm not seeing her!"

Hux sighs. It’s a frustrated growl that makes its way up his throat but he manages to stifle it somewhere on the way. If they both end up yelling they won’t get anywhere so he ruthlessly holds back the urge to give in to his temper. "She has standing with the other leaders who are still too afraid to even meet my eyes. The ones cowering behind her skirts too afraid to do anything she might not agree with. If they know Organa has spoken with us privately they'll be more inclined to believe in my good intentions."

"You don't _have_ good intentions."

"Of course not. That doesn't change what we're here to do. What _you're_ here to do. She's the most influential person at this summit, if there's anyone you should be focused on, it's her." He pauses, knowing that what he has to say next won’t be welcome. “You’re her son. We need to take advantage of that.”

“You just wanted me here to undermine her!”

“That was a consideration, yes.”

Kylo is pacing tight circles around their sitting room like a caged animal, his anger lashing off him like a restless tail and Hux keeps a wary eye on every heavy object he passes. He hasn’t reached terminal levels of anger yet, but there’s rarely much – if any – warning before he does. As it is Hux is glad he doesn’t have his lightsaber with him, and he’s prepared for things to start flying. It isn’t a danger Hux is impervious to, merely one he has to steel himself against. He can feel the colour rising in his own face, but he refuses to defend his motivations.  “Let them wonder why they should follow a woman who couldn’t even convince her own son.”

Kylo shakes his head. "You have no idea what you're asking of me."

"I'm not asking, I'm _informing_ you of the job you're here to do. Snoke didn't send you along just to skulk around and have a good time."

Kylo's jaw clenches along with his fists that hang loosely at his sides.

Hux isn’t above using the Supreme Leader as leverage when it’s called for. “Would you like to inform the Supreme Leader that you’re unable to put your very specific set of talents to use, all because you can’t spend a few hours in the company of a woman who supposedly means nothing to you? Do I have to ask for one of the other nights to replace you and send you home because you aren’t up to it?”

Kylo’s face is set in a mask of fury, but worse than that is the sudden reflectiveness in his eyes. _Shit_. He takes the calculated risk and approaches Kylo, takes his warm (lax) hand in his own.

“You’re afraid to face her, I understand, but you can’t let that fear deliberate you. You’re stronger than that.”

Kylo looks less than convinced.

"I'll be there with you," Hux coaxes. You'll be fine."

The look Kylo gives him makes it painfully clear what exactly he thinks of Hux’s ‘fine’ and where he can shove it, but it isn’t a no.

“Besides,” Hux interjects smoothly. “We’re invited to dinner tomorrow evening.” He holds a hand up to stave off the oncoming eruption. “This is what you get when you’re mated to an officer. We were invited to go _dancing_ last night, be grateful I turned _that_ down.”

“This is the _worst_ mission I’ve ever been on!” Kylo hisses.

“I know, I know.” Hux has read enough of his mission reports to get the general idea. “But you were the one who decided it was a good idea to go on a treasure hunt for your grandfather’s glowrod – _or whatever it was!_ – on a planet consisting entirely of mud and rock, so if you ended up breaking both your ankles it was your own bloody fault.”

Kylo scoffs, either to suggest Darth Vader’s toothbrush holder was worth the trouble or to blame someone else for his broken limbs, but either way he’d be wrong.

 

* * *

 

 

Organa has been given a beautiful suite, one befitting of a woman of her station. It’s larger and airier than theirs with more doors leading off the main room, and unlike theirs it catches the morning sun through the long line of doors leading to the balcony. A rectangular table is set out in the centre of the room, the light just touching the edge of it and bouncing off the tableware. It’s shaping up to be another warm day, and the air is still and stifling and only incrementally alleviated by the fan over the table that stirs up the scent of fresh bread and caf.

"Please," Organa says and gestures at them to take their seats, although Kylo is already ahead of her. He claims the chair at the other end of the table as far away from Organa as possible and slumps down there sullenly, leaving Hux as a physical barrier between the two of them. Ren's dark eyes meet Hux’s briefly before he insolently looks off to the side and proceeds to ignore them both of them.

However annoyed Hux is with Ren's childish display of temper – it would be humiliating in front of anyone else – in this case he's sure it's exactly what Organa wants to see.

_See how badly behaved he is. As spoiled as the day he left your loving arms, if not more so. Hardly subjugated._

The dishes that are laid out on the table for them are numerous; a wide arrange of cut fruits from varying climates and planets, uninspiring milk products and dark, grainy bread – all things that Kylo would enjoy but not too obviously so. Simple but high-quality fresh food for people who grew up wealthy and cared for in the heart of the republic and didn't have to scrape by with processed substances complemented by nutritional additives or rations. Hux helps himself to the meat and soft yeast bread closer to Organa's end of the table while she pours him a fragrant cup of caf. It is, quite possibly, the best he has had in years, perhaps ever. Apparently the resort has been saving the good stuff for royalty. Organa must notice his moment of bliss because she mentions the manufacturer and the possibility of having some delivered for him, as a gift. Hux sips his cup, eyes closed in the moment’s pleasure. _That’s right, keep them coming_.

The two of them make small talk about the planet and the weather before they move onto polite inquiries about the other dignitaries and the state of the negotiations and where they might lead. Hux is impressed by her ability to speak with him so civilly and seemingly without effort. If he didn’t know better he couldn't even guess how deeply her hatred for him runs, and he tries to keep the sneering to a minimum in return.

While they're talking Kylo keeps his mouth shut and amuses himself by pushing his food around his plate, but at least he hasn’t flipped over the table, and that’s about as much as Hux dares to expect of him.  Hux leaves him be while Organa occasionally casts surreptitious glances at her son. She doesn't make any attempts to engage him in conversation, but Hux can tell that she's contented just by his gentle presence. Hux sort of knows what that might feel like on days when Kylo isn't going out of his way to be difficult. As fiercely opposed to each other as he and Organa are, they do have that one thing in common.

The first twenty minutes of the meal are uneventful and Hux almost thinks they’ll get through it without any dramatics when he’s proven wrong.

Kylo has been looking downright green all morning – from nerves, and understandably so – but abruptly he lets his fork drop down on his plate with a clatter and knocks over his chair in his haste to get up. He rushes towards the refresher, one hand pressed over his mouth, and a few moments later the unmistakeable sound of retching reaches them.

"Ben!" Organa calls in shock, while Hux rolls his eyes. He hadn't expected Kylo to go this far to get out of brunch with the woman, but he can't say he's surprised either.

Unfortunately Organa catches him doing it and she doesn't look the least bit pleased by his lack of concern. Hux clears his throat and dabs at his mouth with the serviette before he pushes away from the table. "Excuse me."

He finds the refresher by sound alone and leans against the open doorframe while Kylo kneels over the toilet, both hands on the floor while he heaves the contents of his stomach into the bowl. At least he's not faking that part. Hux grabs a hand towel and soaks it in cold water before he wrings it out. He brushes Kylo’s hair aside and tugs down his collar so he can place the towel at the base of his neck. Kylo makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper but he doesn’t make any move to get up or even lift his head.

“I take it we should leave.” He would be annoyed at Kylo for not managing to sit still for an hour, but he is almost pleasantly surprised he lasted this long.

Organa lets them go without protest. Her attention is solely on Kylo who looks at anything _but_ her as Hux extends their regrets. He is almost out the door when she says, "You'll have to come again." The weight of her words is downright foreboding. To Hux it sounds more like she’s putting a curse on them and he pauses uneasily by the door when it closes behind him.

Kylo is already down at the end of the hallway, repeatedly slamming his hand down on the button for the turbolift.

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo is a mess when they get back to their room but he isn't letting it spill out for once and rather disappears into the refresher without a word. That's breakfast cut short, but on the other hand it means Hux has a few hours before he's expected elsewhere. He takes his datapad and reclines on the bed with the intention of going over the talking points for the meeting that afternoon and maybe even getting some work done on the sly.

Kylo comes out of the refresher only half-dressed in loose trousers and a singlet and goes straight out to the balcony. They're not allowed weapons on site, but Kylo has cleared enough space on the balcony for his physical exercises. The plant boxes that used to line the balustrade have mysteriously ended up all over the courtyard under their balcony and they're missing one of their curtain rods.  Hux watches him with half an eye while he works – and how considerate of him to do that where Hux can see him.

When he’s done preparing his notes for the afternoon’s conference he gives some thought to responding to the messages from his immediate subordinates, but none of them are marked urgent and for once he’s tempted to leave them. One is from Phasma but he has a feeling it’s less work related and more about when it’s her turn to have an assignment on a pleasure world.

He doesn't get far before he's interrupted. Kylo climbs over him, straddling his hips and pushing down the datapad to get to Hux's mouth. He smells of fresh air and clean sweat, his body radiating heat from the exercise, and he tastes strongly of toothpaste which isn't ideal but far better than the alternative. Kylo keeps the kiss short in favour of marking his way down the side of Hux's throat, over the tender spots under his jaw that has Hux tilting his head to the side with a sigh while Kylo takes the opportunity to pluck the datapad from his unresisting finger and sets it aside. He crawls down the length of Hux's body until he's lying on his belly between Hux's legs, fingers prying insistently at Hux's belt and buttons.

 Heart fluttering in his chest, Hux lifts his hips to allow his trousers to be pulled down over his legs while he divests himself of his shirt. Kylo's mouth is on his cock immediately, drawing it into the hot cavern of his mouth while his hand caresses Hux's balls, and he seems a lot more intent on his task than getting undressed until Hux snaps his fingers and tugs at his shirt. He rises up on his knees, mouth still firmly closed around Hux's cock as it swells in his mouth and does some impressive contorting and shuffling around to undress with his face planted in Hux's lap.

Hux tugs at his hair, just enough to make Kylo look up at him. His dark eyes blown and nearly entirely black and Hux  gently rolls his hips upwards and nudges the head of his cock against the soft palate at the back of Kylo's throat, just to hear the choking sounds he makes and to see the water well up in his eyes.

He thumbs at the spittle gathering at the corner of Kylo's mouth, his mind predictably going to a certain incident which he immediately puts out of his head, but Kylo generally doesn't take him as deeply as he used to, or for as long.

They stay like that for some time while Kylo sucks him, thoroughly and indulgently while the heat builds up slowly in Hux’s entire body. He could stay like that for hours but Kylo doesn't have that kind of patience today. He sits up and straddles Hux's lap, rising up on his knees and reaches back to hold Hux steady while he lower himself down on him. He's tight and not as wet as he should be for the lack of foreplay, but his cock is standing up from its dark nest of curls, sticky and wanting and flushed darkly at the tip from where he must have been rubbing himself off against the bedding.

Hux plants his feet but he lets Kylo take his time to get comfortable before he thrusts up to meet him. It's a little too tight at first; too much friction, but gradually he opens up just the way he always does, like he's been put together entirely for Hux to bury himself in.

They go slowly for a while until Kylo gets tired and braces his arms against the mattress and Hux gradually picks the pace up, thrusting up a bit more sharply and Kylo follows suit, the sounds of their moans and their bodies coming together growing louder.

Kylo's arms are braced by Hux’s head, their foreheads nearly touching with his body held in a tight, shivering curve from the tips of his hair brushing Hux's face to where he's seated flush against Hux's hips, stiff cock bobbing up against the taunt line of his stomach. He's also crying, his moans and gasps interspersed with congested sniffles.

Hux lookes down between them, admiring the flawlessness of Kylo’s body and the flex of his muscles as he moves, not too slowly and not too quickly; reverently, and Hux thumbs over the wet tracks on his cheeks.

" What are you crying for? I'm not angry at you. You're being good for once, aren't you?"

"Shut up," Kylo grumbles at him, but they've been together long enough for Hux to know what he likes to hear.

There's a thunder storm brewing outside; the culmination of an overcast morning under heavy clouds, and the light from the windows grows dimmer as the breeze through the open door to the balcony grows cool and heavy with humidity.

Kylo grinds down gently against the swell of Hux's knot when it starts to form, teasing it with the warmth of his body but not taking it in, and fuck, that's even worse. Hux fumbles for the chronometer on the bedside table and almost knocks it to the floor in his haste, but there's still plenty of time. He grabs Kylo by the hips and thrusts upward, letting out a burst of laughter when Kylo actually rises up on his knees, and meets Hux's eyes for the first time in a while, red-rimmed and wide in surprise.

"Oh, now you don't want it? Come on, get it inside before it swells too much."

It's a little bit of a stretch already but Kylo is nothing if not determined. Hux reaches down to where they're joined and wriggles two fingers inside next to the already tight grip on his shaft. Kylo makes loud noises somewhere between pain and elation in his ear while his body jerks as Hux hooks his fingers and pulls him open at the same time as he grinds upwards. His knots pops through the ring, stretched taunt over the widest part and Kylo comes with a shout, shooting long spurts of come over their bellies and leaving Hux's ear ringing though he hasn't half a mind to spare it. Not with his entire cock enveloped in Kylo’s body, held firmly with his passage fluttering and clenching around him pleading for his release.

He keeps moving as much as he can, drawing out Kylo's orgasm as delighting at the mewling, desperate sounds he makes – at least he has stopped sniffling – and rubs against Kylo's prostate all through the aftershocks of his first orgasm until he gasps, "Wait, Hux, _fuck_ , I'm gonna-" He comes again although his cock doesn't have much to offer anymore, and Hux groans at the tight clench around his knot, pulls Kylo down so he can bury his nose in his neck and run his tongue over the raised lines of the bite mark there.

His orgasm finally rolls over him. He groans, jerks upwards to empty his seed into Kylo while his body is still shivering through climax.

After a while of catching their breaths Kylo pushes himself up into a sitting position. He lists slightly, looking drowsy and gratifyingly satisfied, his skin shining with sweat and his hair sticking to his face in wet patches. With the right grip stimulating his knot it takes a while for Hux to empty his load and Kylo rocks himself on top of him a little to help him along; gently like waves lapping at the shore.

Caught up by momentary curiosity Hux spreads his hand over Kylo's belly beneath his navel, somewhere over where his cock is shooting off inside him now – not as much as he would if he were in a rut, but enough.

"What does it feel like?"

Kylo shrugs with one shoulder. His eyes are falling shut but he keeps moving slowly, like he's rocking himself to sleep. "Good. Warm. Full.” He chews on his lip and Hux is thoroughly sidetracked by the redness of it before Kylo goes on. “Safe. Like you want me," he says, willingly opening himself up to the possibility of being hurt in a way that Hux can’t manage to do himself. He has never been any good with pain. It’s humbling – and baffling.

Hux may not be able to read Kylo’s mind, but his face is an open book without the mask in place now. Like one of those soft, defenceless things that may crawl out of their shells on some wind-swept beach when the tide recedes. Those sad, pitiful things that beg to be cared for – or crushed under one’s foot. Hux has done both.

"Come here."

They're straying dangerously close to emotional waters, but it doesn't seem so perilous when Kylo's already half asleep. His drowsiness is infectious.

Kylo folds down over him and tucks his head on the pillow in the crook of Hux's neck. it doesn't look comfortable at all, but Kylo rarely seems to mind and Hux strokes the damp tangle of his hair with one hand while he reaches for the beside clock with the other and sets the alarm for half an hour in case they fall asleep.

There’s a spreading wetness over the pillowcase that means the waterworks have started up again. Hux doesn't ask him if there's any particular reason for it and soon enough Kylo is asleep. Sometimes it's nothing, and sometimes it's something Hux "can't understand" because he's just a poor plebeian with no force sensitivity who makes it through his days without destroying other people's property or bursting into tears. And does he really want to know anyway?

  

* * *

 

 

It’s only on his way to the day’s conference meeting that Hux remembers Phasma’s message. He still doesn’t think it’s urgent or in any was vital, but he looks forward to it with the anticipation of enjoyment if nothing else. That’s why he’s surprised when it turns out to be a report of unauthorized access to personnel files. There’s a log attached that Hux breezes over but he understands very little of without the proper tools or context.

_Nothing to concern yourself with at this point_ , is Phasma’s assessment. _Communications believes it may just be a glitch in the system and we haven’t detected any other suspicious activity. We’re monitoring the situation and will inform you if there is any change_.

It’s a concern, but only because Phasma took the time to inform him about it. The _Finalizer_ is a large ship; there are thousands of small errors and things going wrong every cycle due to glitches or human fallibility, and there’s no reason to think this is anything more than that.

Hux decides to put it out of his mind for the time being. He trusts his subordinates – Phasma most of all – and if there’s anything to be alarmed about, she’ll be the first to know. Meanwhile he has a meeting to attend.

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo is back to some semblance of functionality by evening – his emotional spells rarely last long – but it isn’t easy to convince him to go out again.

“Haven’t I done enough for you for one day?” he asks before they leave. He sounds exhausted and Hux can’t really argue with him.

“It’s only for a few hours. Senator Omin and Organa have been snubbing each other since the negotiations started, so there’s no risk of running into her there,” Hux assures him, but Kylo doesn’t look any more eager to jump to it.

He leans against Hux like a very large and affectionate animal, his weight enough to crowd Hux against the wall while Kylo noses as his cheek, his lips just barely brushing over Hux’s freshly-shaved skin, who is instantly made aware of how tightly his collar presses on his throat. “I really don’t want to go,” Kylo says needlessly, although the purr in his voice is confusingly contrary. “What are you going to do to make it up to me?

Kylo is very close and his scent rises warmly from his body; sticky sweet and enticing, but Hux has spent most his life steeling himself against temptation. “What, for doing your job?” Hux exclaims, then reconsiders as Kylo’s fingers follow the edge of his jacket down his chest. “Fine, what would you like?”

“I want you to suck me off after. I want to come in your mouth, and I want to think about it all through dinner.“

Hux feels a heat in his cheeks that isn’t all embarrassed. “No need to bargain for _that_. All you have to do is ask.”

“Now you’re taking the fun out of it.”

Hux rolls his eyes and says, with an utter lack of sincerity, “Oh no. I suppose I have no choice but to concede to your demands.”

“That’s better.”

 

It's fair to say that Hux isn't the only party at the summit looking for something other than the peaceful surrender of the first order. Many of the smaller systems are falling over each other to throw themselves at the First Order's mercy – partially for fear and partially because they crave the order which they now know Hux will provide, but mostly to garner enough good-will to put themselves in a favourable position in the new world order.

One such is Senator Omin, who was lucky enough to be on holiday when Hux blew up the senate. He is the representative of a smaller system, one unable to fend off any kind of military invasion without the backing of the rest of the republic, especially if there's a possibility that Hux may obliterate their planet from space. Omin's system may be small but it’s one that is wealthy in crystals which are key components in the production of weapons, and Hux has been less than satisfied with the size of their arsenal since the destruction of the Starkiller.

The senator himself is a short but wide man of middling years with a complexion prone to flushing that Hux can sympathize with. He’s a businessman before a politician, Hux can tell early on, but he has obviously found his calling in life within politics. He seems to thrive on entertaining people. Hux would find him obnoxious if the man wasn’t so very dedicated to stroking his ego at every opportunity that presents itself. He's doing everything short of pissing himself to show his obedience and submission to the new regime, which is just as it should be.

The dinner is a small affair with no more than a dozen or so guests who Hux assumes Omid has hand-picked for their alignment. There are no social obligations to fulfil other than sitting down and eating, which even Kylo should manage without any major incidents, although Hux has some concerns after his stunt at breakfast. The two representatives from Talaan are there, although thankfully they aren’t within picture-sharing distance once everyone is seated.

Hux and Kylo are given the place of honour next to the host and it’s the first time they’re attending a formal dinner together. Kylo has beautiful manners when he chooses to acknowledge them and it’s a rare pleasure to watch him put them to use for once. Unlike at breakfast, he doesn’t slouch of scowl, and although he’s hardly contributing to the conversation there is no prerequisite for him to do so. He knows which utensils to pick up, when to wait for the rest of the party and how to indicate to his table mate that he wants something without asking for it outright; the kind of etiquette that Hux had painstakingly drilled into him during officer schooling even though there has been little practical use for them since.

It isn’t something Hux would ever have given any thought to _wanting_ to do before, but now that they’re there he can’t help but think it could be quite pleasant if they were alone, or at the very least within reach of each other. Instead they’re seated across the table from each other, separated by a sprawling centrepiece made up of flowers and fruits and some kind of bones or spines that Hux can’t even begin to make sense of. He keeps an eye on the beta who has the place next to Kylo. The one who is a little too attentive in fulfilling his needs and a little too oblivious. They get through no less than three courses before she starts to look properly concerned.

Hux divides his attention between his host and the other guests and the conversation, and Kylo who is essentially eye-fucking him over the table, probably out of spite and boredom more than anything else, but it’s no less distracting for that. As long as he doesn’t cause any disasters Hux is looking forward to rewarding him once it’s all over. A foot brushes against his ankle and Hux sends an exasperated look at his mate over the table. Kylo blinks at him and Hux has no idea why he finds that arousing.

It's just as well that Omid is such an attentive host because Hux has no doubt he and Ren are stretching the limits of his capability. He steers the conversation clear away from politics – a sign of a good host, but unfortunately it leaves them with few topics left to discuss. War is all Hux knows; he can’t very well comment on the state of the symphonic orchestra or the latest scandal amongst the rich and famous, (although he has been both shocked and intrigued by some of the things he has heard since he arrived,) so they make what constitutes as small talk throughout the meal; drifting from topics of travel locations to speeder models, an inevitably family. 

"I'm sorry your wife isn’t here to join us," he says to senator Omid.  She’s some famous opera singer or other whom Hux would never have heard of if he hadn’t done his homework beforehand. 

"So am I, General. So am I." The Senator leans back in his chair and his smile turns inward, though Hux doesn't like the mischievous glint in his eye. "I've been very lucky to call her mine for as long as I have – longer than either of us care to admit at this age!” (He pauses strategically to allow for the rest of the table to laugh.) “Although it does us old ones good to see young people at the start of their journey."

The sentiment is echoed down the table Hux who has no idea what they're talking about for a moment or two.

"I hear general Arvid asked to be moved off your floor," Omid chortles. "She said the walls were too thin." Then he nudges Hux in the side with his elbow.

Across the table Kylo's eyes widen as if he's expecting Hux to lose his mind or something – which he definitively isn't. Besides, he left his blaster back on the _Finalizer_ along with all the troopers who usually shoot people for him.

"Ha," he manages, and it's enough for the rest of the table who break into what even he recognizes is good-natured laughter, although that doesn't stop him from wishing he could shove their forks down their throats and hear them choking on them instead. Kylo’s eyes hold his across the table. His look says he’d do it if Hux really wanted him to, and that’s more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for your support. All comments and questions and constructive criticism are appreciated. I really am terrible at editing my work rather than leaving them like tangled balls of yarn, but your comments keep me going. ^_^


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